Sunday, April 11, 2010

Jangling Jack

Jack come to town with the fires of hell at his back. He stepped from his midnight black horse. before it could even stop. His limp seem to be worse than i had ever see it. He didn't let it slow him down as he made his way to the saloon.

He stopped feet from the first step. His black eyes seem to scan the whole building. his voice seemed to come from another place. He was screaming for Robert Plum.

As i looked ad Jack i could see blood all over his right hand. The street was so quiet i could hear every drop drip from him mangled. Every few moments he would make a fist then stretch his finger out.

Robert stepped out the front door. He to each step to the street one at a time. As Robert stepped on the street he unbuckled his gun belt and dropped it to the ground at his feet. He smiled when he stopped only inches from Jack.

Robert held his arms out like the Jesus cross in the church and spoke his last words to Jack.

"You gona shoot an unarmed man.....Jack?" He smiled.

The blood started to run from Jacks Right hand, then he started to breathe heavy like a ass after a hot afternoon in the fields.

Thats when it happen. Jack jumped on Robert and started to bite his face and then his neck. He just kept biting Roberts neck till he was dead. Old Mrs. Weston passed out and hit her head on the watering troff (she aint been right since).

Jack let Roberts body drop to the ground. he turned and look at me with his blood soaked face, a pieces of Robert hanging from his mouth. He slowly moved his right mangled to his face and wiped it off and smiled. The whole time his dead black eyes never blinkin.

Jack mounted his horse. Then rode it to Robert, he spit on him and the let out a laugh that would have made the devil cry.

Jack looked at me and said the last words i ever wanted to hear "See you real soon."

Thursday, April 8, 2010

old friends on the mind

Nine and the King




I've been running around, I've been standing in one place.
Letters are sticking to the words they are creating.
My finger are dirty with the last day Ive lived for
Im not cryin or complaining but I thing you have to go.
If you take a step to the left I think you'll understand.

My only moment to live is the thought of friend who died.
In just a moment I wonder what would they think of me now.
In seconds I smile at the thought of what I hold in my life.
What of the anger I've trapped deep inside will it ever go.
If I take a step back I just might understand.